When I'm feeling agitated,
Discontented, or unmotivated,
Then I tell myself to hold fast,
For such adverse feelings won't last.

Sometimes the world has a radiant sheen,
And everything seems "peachy keen."
It's fantastic when things are sublime,
But such good feelings will pass with time.

Freezing temps can really get old,
But when I'm hot, I want to be cold.
Though I hate hot weather a lot,
When I'm cold, I want to be hot.

When I'm feeling down in the dumps,
I say, "Oh, well, life has its bumps."
If I tough it out, in a while
I know my frown will turn to a smile.

Aren't we full of contradictions?
We can clash with our own convictions.
With some practice, things will click,
And we can find out what makes us tick.

Look inside yourself and you'll see
In life there is no guarantee.
Is what you're seeing REAL, or do you
See only what you perceive to be true?

-by Bob B (1-2-19)

Twenty eighteen has come and gone,
And all I can say is, What a year!
That twenty nineteen will also be
Just as crazy is crystal clear.

Mass shootings once again
Shook the country, taking a toll
On all of us, and yet very little
Has been done about gun control.

Always the center of controversies,
Trump again tried to assuage
The public by pleading ignorance
When Stormy Daniels took center stage.

Then we learned that Trump had paid
Hush money to flings at least TWICE
In hopes to secure his chances of winning
The twenty sixteen election. How nice!

A lot of Trump's team have left
Through the admin's revolving door,
Always mired in controversy.
There are bound to be many more.

Trump has proved he loves his tyrants
More than he loves our allies and friends.
Ignoring advice from experts, he'll do
Whatever Putin recommends.

Hurricanes caused major flooding;
California was ravaged by fires.
Yet dire warnings go unheeded
By stalwart climate change deniers.

The separation of families seeking
Asylum showed a callous side
Of Trump and his team, whose inhumane
Actions cannot be denied.

Year two of investigations…
Manafort, Gates, Cohen, and Flynn
Are talking more, while the walls
Around Donald Trump are closing in.

Meanwhile Trump continues to lie.
There's no end to his subterfuge.
How many lies? Eight thousand?
And Giuliani plays his stooge.

Kavanagh got a Supreme Court seat
After a sham investigation,
Which shows how Trump maintains the belief:
What's good for Trump is good for the nation.

November saw a welcome blue wave
Sweep through the House. Such a delight!
This should end Nunes' obstruction
Of justice. There will be oversight!

We lost three prominent people:
Barbara and George Bush and McCain.
Very few members of
The old Republican guard remain.

Trump cannot stop harping on
His WALL--a waste of money and time.
With our crumbling infrastructure,
Building his "wall" would be a crime.

What will the New Year bring forth?
Perhaps an indictment? Perhaps an arraignment?
Since Trump loves to be the star,
THAT'S what I'd call entertainment!

-by Bob B (1-1-19)

Holiday cheer and hustle and bustle
From Thanksgiving until Christmas Day.
Running somewhat on autopilot…
Sometimes longing to get away…
Embracing the spirit of the holiday season,
I hoped good tidings would stifle bad news.
But now that Christmas is over, I am
Stuck with the after-Christmas blues.

Days have been for the most part sunny;
Winters are mild in southern Cal.
Holiday baking would have to be fruitful:
Cookies and candy would boost my morale.
The holiday sweets have all disappeared now.
I didn't gain and I didn't lose.
Fugacious pleasures have left, and now I'm
Feeling the after-Christmas blues.

Caught up in the holiday spirit,
For a brief moment I thought there would be
And end to lies, injustice, and hate…
An end to all this insanity.
But no, decorations merely
Hide the truths that we can't excuse,
And once again we hear the sounds
That linger: the after-Christmas blues.

Ah, but all things must pass, no?
That is what I find myself saying.
People will open their eyes and they
Will see what the deeper truths are conveying.
Change will come, so let's be hopeful.
Let us all together refuse
To be downhearted. Then we can say
Goodbye to the after-Christmas blues.

-by Bob B (12-30-18)

Another death on our southern border--
THIS time an eight-year-old child.
You'd have to be an unsympathetic
And cold-hearted person not to be riled.

Little Felipe Gómez Alonzo
Died near the border on Christmas Eve.
The Guatemalan child's death
Leaves another family bereaved.

Representative Peter King
In an interview brushed aside
The pain and seriousness and said
ONLY TWO children have died.

ONLY TWO? And why? Because
The Trump admin is changing the ways
Asylum seekers apply for refuge
With obstacles and major delays.

Closing the ports of entry and making
Families find alternate routes
Through dangerous areas to plead their cases
Has shocked the world and raised many doubts.

Trump and his staff are experts at how to
Manipulate his base with lies--
To turn the public against the very
People they dehumanize.

The Grand Deceiver claims a wall
Will solve our system of immigration.
Though ludicrous, the wall, he says,
Will be our only hope of salvation.

He lashes out through foolish tweets,
Childish tantrums, and angry threats,
Blasting dissenters and passing blame
Without compunction, with no regrets.

Asylum seekers who've brought their children…
Did they ever anticipate
That they'd flee death to find it here
In a sad, ironic twist of fate.

-by Bob B (12-29-18)

THIS poem is number 800
Of poems I've "published" on various sites.
You might golf, play tennis or paint;
Of me they merely say, "He writes."

Eight hundred poems are a lot
Of poems if you are keeping score.
But bear in mind that poets out there
Have written hundreds or thousands more.

Writing can become a passion--
Something that grasps your innermost being,
That vibrantly exposes your heart
When you try to express what you're seeing.

My approach is sometimes light-hearted
And playful if I am in the mood;
And yet I can be quite serious
And muse on something or ponder or brood.

I often write poems that tell a story.
Call them unsophisticated
If you wish, but frankly I say
Sophistication is overrated.

After observing the world around me,
I sit down and roll up my sleeves
To write, often focusing on
Some of my most annoying pet peeves,

Hypocrisy being ONE of them.
Oh, the slimy hypocrites ooze
Flagrant chicanery, fraud, and pretense,
And every day they're in the news.

Some say, "Leave no turn unstoned."
No, wait: I mean "stone unturned."
And no, you can't please everybody;
That's an important lesson I've learned.

If you've read all 800 poems,
I've taken up a lot of your time.
I hope you've found the journey worthwhile--
This journey through my verses in rhyme.

But if poetry's NOT your thing,
Do not worry; I understand.
You'll receive no criticism,
No reproof, no reprimand.

Therefore, if you've read this far,
Celebrate along with me
This little challenge. Raise your glass
And drink a toast to poetry!

-by Bob B (12-27-18)

I tell you it's hard to live with a man
Who's always so preoccupied
With making other people happy,
Especially at Yuletide.

Time and again I've asked why he
Prefers to live in this frigid zone.
And then he works each Christmas Eve
While I have to stay home alone!

I mean, why this bias of Christmas
With winter and snow year after year
When it's nice and steamy on Earth's
Beautiful southern hemisphere?

Don't get me wrong: I don't begrudge
His eleemosynary devotion
To making other people happy.
That's a kind and generous notion.

But his thoughts are always on
"The kids," and so, I feel neglected.
And yet I always put on the front
Of being cheerful, cool and collected.

Another thing I must admit:
It's hard for a wife whose hubby enjoys
An overwhelming fascination
Or infatuation with all his toys!

You might think the man is cute;
However, I am less enthralled.
He suffers from puer aeternus.
At least that's what I think it's called.

I tell him, "Dear, I understand
Your thoughtful desire to do good deeds,
But maybe you are overdoing it.
Don't forget: wives have needs."

I sometimes think the worst might happen
Whenever my spirits start to sink.
I have to muster up inner strength
To stop myself from taking to drink.

I'd love to be able to find a place
Where we could spend some time by ourselves.
It isn't easy to live with a man
Who spends all his time with reindeer and elves.

Oh, well…I guess it's true:
Every marriage has its flaws.
But try to imagine what it's like
To be Mrs. Santa Claus.

-by Bob B (12-25-18)

(Can be sung to the tune of "King Herod's Song" from JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR)

Oh, I feel a duty to my donors and my base.
If I don't act, Rush and Ann will say I'm a disgrace.
I pass laws…to titillate my fans.
I hate it when dissenters disagree with all my plans.

So give me my wall, my huge, giant wall.
It's a promise that I made.
Join me in my wall crusade.
Come, hear my plea.
Come on and do it for me.
Be nice and give me my wall.

You don't know how hard it is to work with people who
Don't appreciate all the terrific things you do.
My great wall…will be a tour de force.
And little Stevie Miller will be satisfied, of course.

So give me my wall, my huge, giant wall.
If people starve, well, Uncle Sam,
I don't really give a ****.
It feels so nice
To snuggle with ICE.
Come on and give me my wall.

Some say that my wall is useless; they don't understand
How its usefulness will help us keep out contraband,
Druggies and rapists, and all those other sorts.
I will get my way if I keep stacking all the courts.

So give me my wall, a huge, giant wall,
That stretches along our southern border.
Don’t say it's too tall an order.
I'll go to town and shut the government down
Unless you give me my wall.

Oh…yes…please…
Give my me wall, my huge, giant wall.
Five billion bucks should do it.
You say that's too much? Aw, ***** it!
Putin agrees, and so I beg on my knees:
Give me my beautiful wall!

-by Bob B (12-22-18)